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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689618">Reconciliation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gretaamyk/pseuds/gretaamyk'>gretaamyk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Lovers, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:15:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gretaamyk/pseuds/gretaamyk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer and Y/n don’t exactly get along, but one night they finally get together and … resolve their differences.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spencer Reid x Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Reconciliation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I never considered myself a romantic. Growing up I was objective and analytical, that much has never really changed. But something that did change was my thinking on the matter; coming to the conclusion that everyone is a romantic in one way or another. Not necessarily a romantic for relationships, but we all romanticize our future in our heads. We all imagine the life we want in a cookie-cutter mold. Not everyone has the same cutter, no one has the same perfect future, but I think that we all have one. </p><p>There was a person I imagined myself with in that future, and after thirty years, I found her. The only problem was, she drove me absolutely crazy.</p><p>She was kind-hearted, but dense. Optimistic, but with a naïveté that made her so to a fault. She would solve mathematical equations with the wrong process, but miraculously emerge with the right answer. She was a paradox of a person and it drove me crazy that I couldn’t figure her out. But through what was admittedly my own fault, I didn’t always like the things that I struggled to understand.</p><p>She was childish and as stubborn as the brickwall I felt I was talking to in every conversation I had with her. Sometimes hearing her talk was enough to make me want to pull my hair out… but much more prominently in my mind, I wanted to shut her up in any way I could. And I mean, any way I could.</p><p>“Spencer, are you even listening to me?” She asked insistently. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and I swore that if I looked harder, I could see steam blowing out of her ears.</p><p>“Nope.” I popped the ‘P’ sound and picked up the book on the table that this conversation had forced me to put down.</p><p>“Why not?” </p><p>“Because you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied plainly, not even reading the book, just pretending to. Something about the way her face twisted and her voice got high and squeaky filled me with an unfair amusement that even though I knew was wrong, was something I’d always pursue when given the opportunity. Opportunities she had given to me many times, a fact that almost led me to believe she was doing it on purpose.</p><p>She was talking about a case, no doubt telling me things that I already knew — but I didn’t lie. I wasn’t listening enough to confirm my thinking.</p><p>“I do so know what I’m talking about, Doctor.” I looked up at her, her eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. Her eyes traced my face as if she was awaiting a response. </p><p>I swallowed the lump in my throat at the use of my honorific. It was a word that I’ve imagined escaping her lips many times before, but not in the context she was using now. I shifted awkwardly in my seat.</p><p>I had to clear my throat before speaking, my voice still more strained than I would have liked. “Don’t call me that.”</p><p>“Why not?” She asked, her eyebrows raised in a suspecting way that made me more angry in comparison to my precious excitement. </p><p>“Because I worked hard for that title and I don’t want you ruining it with your…” I excused, struggling to find the right word, “Philistinism.” </p><p>She laughed and started to approach me, her eyes angry but never straying once from mine. She looked me up and down like she was searching for where my sudden audacity came from. </p><p>“You don’t like it when I call you Doctor?” She spoke lowly, sitting down on my desk as if she owned it. “You really think I’m gonna corrupt it with my inherent stupidity?“ </p><p>I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly short her skirt was now as it rode higher up her thighs. I didn’t allow myself to look anymore after that first subtle glance, suddenly feeling like a prepubescent boy again—almost forgetting that I was mad at all. But if I looked, then she won a competition that she didn’t even know that she was a part of.</p><p>“Let me tell you something, Spencer,” she leaned closer to me, her voice as crisp and clean as the lipstick that I couldn’t stop myself from passing glances at every few moments of enunciation. “I didn’t graduate at 12. My IQ is just above average, and I certainly don’t have three PhDs.”</p><p>I furrowed my eyebrows and looked back into her eyes as she seemed to be finished speaking.</p><p>“Your point?” I asked starkly, slightly confused but trying to mask it with boredness. She chuckled and grabbed my tie in her hands and tightened it. I couldn’t breathe. Not because of the tie that was ever tightening around my throat, but because of her and the way I didn’t hate it.</p><p>“I am still doing your job just as well if not better.” She continued playing with the fabric around my neck like it was a toy. My face dropped as reality came back to play. She pulled me closer to her by the tie, her face just inches away from mine as the daggers she spoke filled the air. “Tell me, smart boy, if I’m so inferior to you, why the fuck are you still working beside me? Why aren’t you running the whole circus by now?”</p><p>Her eyes stayed so stagnant and sharp on mine that I could almost see the fire burning within them.</p><p>“Bite me,” It wasn’t the maturest of answers but it was the only one I could force out with any clarity. She dropped my tie from her grasp and flattened it out before hopping off my desk and walking away. </p><p>“Only if you beg, Doctor.” </p><p>Trust me, I won’t be the one begging… wait, what?</p><p>Some things I forgot to mention: She was insufferable, but also the hottest person I’ve ever fucking met. </p><p>Hours later we were in the conference room of a run down Texas police station. We’ve been working on this case casually for the past week back in Quantico. Now  we’re here since the case had escalated beyond where we could help from back home.</p><p>The air conditioning was broken which was definitely inconvenient in this scorching weather. It was starting to rain, and I had almost expected it to be cooler because of it. But no, now it was just hot and wet — which although wasn’t ideal in this context, otherwise sounds like a great time. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to Y/n, subconsciously thinking about her like that. Hot and wet from something very different from the capricious Texas weather.</p><p>I looked back at Hotch when I heard my name, only realizing then that I hadn’t been paying attention for the last few minutes. But Hotch certainly did, emphasizing my name like he was giving clues to what was going to be on the final exam.</p><p>“Reid and Y/l/n, you two are going to stay behind and work together on the geographic profile. Try not to kill each other,” he said with a straight face, but I could almost read something else that I couldn’t quite identify. Either he was annoyed at our childish antics and needed it to be resolved, or he just kind of wanted to see what happens.</p><p>“If he doesn’t kill me I’ll do it myself.” Y/n mumbled, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. I rolled my eyes. I could be civil, sure. But if that was the attitude she would be implementing, then neither of us would be getting out of here alive.</p><p>“Hotch, I can just hold down the fort by myself, she doesn’t need to be here…” I suggested, trying my best to hide any desperation, “Or I could go with you.”</p><p>Y/n laughed, “No, Spencer, with your skill set I think you’d be much more useful inside. No physical activity required.”</p><p>“Are you kidding?” I raised my eyebrows, forgetting that we had an audience and they were about ready to pull out their popcorn.</p><p>“No, you’d get everyone killed.” She spoke as if it was a fact, an amused grin on her face that she was trying to hold back. I rolled my eyes and turned away from her again.</p><p>“I wish I were dead,” I mumbled to myself. </p><p>She perked up and with a failing subtlety, she responded, “That can be arranged.”</p><p>“Jesus, you two,” Hotch groaned. I think I could say with full confidence now what that hidden thing I had read on his face was. “The plan is not changing and you’re going to learn to get along before permanent changes are to be made to the team. You’re adults, act like it. Am I making myself clear?”</p><p>The tension in the room was so strong it felt like I needed to open a window.</p><p>“Yes sir,” Y/n said immediately, suddenly the epitome of virtue, apparently.</p><p>“Yes, Hotch.” I answered back.</p><p>The rest of the team left, kind of in a rush after the tense atmosphere had been formed from that encounter. But with no supervision, Y/n nudged me harshly in the arm with her elbow.</p><p>“Ow! What was that for?” I jumped, immediately rubbing the aching skin on my arm with my opposite hand.</p><p>“You were pissing me off.”</p><p>How, by standing here?</p><p>It was gonna be a long day.</p><p>So I did the mature thing and elbowed her back. Harder.</p><p>-</p><p>“It’s hot as balls in here,” Y/n complained for the third time today, messing with the knobs on the air conditioner instead of helping me with the profile. I didn’t lie to Hotch, I definitely didn’t need her help; her presence and constant whining were in no way beneficial.</p><p>“We’re in Texas,” I answered shortly. “What do you expect?”</p><p>“Well, it’s raining outside. I guess I just associate it with the cold,” she spoke, finally giving up on the temperature and falling into her chair.</p><p>I rolled my eyes, despite having thought the same thing earlier.</p><p>“The average high during this time of year is 97 degrees Fahrenheit and the mean for the daily temperature is only nine degrees below-“</p><p>She cut me off with a laugh, rubbing her eyes with her hands, “My god.”</p><p>I put the marker down and looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”</p><p>“I expected you to behave like a normal person for once,” She groaned before slinking further down into her chair, “But I guess that’s just wishful thinking, isn’t it?”</p><p>I turned to her with a bewildered laugh, “Well, I expected you to not be such a bitch all the time, but clearly you’re not capable of doing that.”</p><p>“Have you ever considered that I act like a bitch solely because you’re an asshole all the time?” She stood up and got closer to me, she was clearly angry, but her shorter stature in comparison to mine didn’t help her case. “I didn’t do anything to you and you just started hating me for no reason. Get your head out of your fucking ass, Spencer- Fuck! It’s too hot!”</p><p>Her face was flushed from both anger and the heat, and stray strands of hair stuck to her skin like they were painted on. But either way, her whining made me want to pull my hair out, feeling suddenly like a parent of an obnoxious toddler.</p><p>“My God, if you complain about the temperature one more time I’ll give you a reason to fucking sweat.”</p><p>She whipped her head around and looked at me with a shocked expression on her face. I didn’t truly process the words that fell out from my lips until this moment when the sudden tension changed from anger to something else entirely. We just stood there, staring at each other, waiting for the other to make a move like it was an old western duel. </p><p>Did I… really just say that? Quick change the subject!</p><p>I cleared my throat and followed it down with a satiating deep breath. I avoided her demanding eyes until I realized that the sudden sheepish nature I adopted would probably make the situation worse. </p><p>I broke the silence finally, speaking sharp words with a calm tongue that made it almost as contradictory as her. “Hotch said that if we don’t figure this out then there will be permanent changes to the team…” I swallowed again, bringing my eyes back up to meet hers. They weren’t cold, nor on fire, but more lukewarm. Not necessarily expectant, but so confused that I felt bad not giving an answer. I didn’t have one to give. ‘“But I need you to know that if that happens… I won’t be the one to go.”</p><p>The words left my mouth and I felt remorseful for that too. Her eyes caught fire like flames through a dry field, easily and almost in a way that had been expected from the match that my words had lit.</p><p>“Then I’ll go and work by myself,” She said strangely softly, turning over her shoulder and quickly excusing herself from the room like she was called for an emergency.</p><p>“Hotch wants us to work together!” I called out to her. I didn’t like her, but I valued my job so much more. My previous point was a large claim that admittedly didn’t carry the weight that I implied it did; My job was no more secure than hers was. I wanted to follow the rules.</p><p>She ignored me. I groaned and turned back to the map, whipping out my marker like it was a weapon.</p><p>“Fine. I’ll solve this myself.”</p><p>I brought the marker to the paper, hovering it just before making contact. I couldn’t focus. Y/n’s voice echoed in from outside, and her words (or rather her tone) was distracting.</p><p>“Hey, sailor,” She sung, my ears twitched like a cat‘s. She must’ve been talking to one of the cops. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about the crime scene.”</p><p>I begrudgingly looked over my shoulder; my suspicions confirmed. She was smiling, talking to a fairly attractive cop. He looked her up and down, throwing all subtlety to the wind.</p><p>Way to be shameless, I thought while rolling my eyes back into my head. Good for you, but at least try to keep it professional.</p><p>He said something to her, but I couldn’t hear it. That only made me more suspicious. I’m sure that she spoke loudly on purpose so that I could hear her. He pointed to somewhere out of my line of sight, and started to walk there with her following close behind. Before I could no longer see her, she passed me one last glance and winked.</p><p>I turned around and tried my best to retain focus, finally managing to connect the ink to that paper. But I couldn’t stop feeling angry. Angry that I was thinking about her at all, and angry at the completely unwarranted feeling of jealousy that followed each thought I had of her. </p><p>No. I’m not jealous. It’s Y/n.</p><p>Finally, she escaped my mind and I lost track of time, managing to both start and finish the geographic profile in a matter of minutes. She finished within that span of time too, her voice interrupting my wandering thoughts.</p><p>“I have a lead- wow, you didn’t get anything done, did you?” She hopped up behind me, radiating an energy that was much more chipper than I’ve seen from her in a while. I perked up and rolled my eyes, not bothering to rebut because my job was clearly finished and it felt pointless to argue.</p><p>“What’d you find?” I stood up straighter. I couldn’t help but notice… how good she looked. She had sweat her makeup off and threw her nicely done hair into an extremely messy ponytail. But, she was smiling. That smile was enough to make her seem infinitely more pleasant.</p><p>“Well the lab results came back and the DNA found on the clothes she was wearing didn’t match the victim or the unsub, which means that it didn’t belong to her.” I bit back a remark about how none of this information was new because it seemed like she was actually trying to be civil and I thought that I owed the team the same. At least for now. “They’re all vintage clothes, and very hard to find, so they could only have been bought from one of the three vintage shops that are in the area that the unsub is willing to drive to, which based on the profile, isn’t very far.”</p><p>Okay, that was new… and actually very helpful.</p><p>“Okay,” I wiped my thumb quickly across my bottom lip, “How big are these vintage boutiques?”</p><p>She shook her head and tucked the stray strands of hair that fell out of her ponytail behind her ear. She seemed proud of herself, which I could infer was the reasoning behind her sudden amiability.</p><p>“Not big at all. And one of them is run solely by its owner, Tamara Leon, which means that if he spread out his purchases, like he would if he was smart, then there’s a good chance that Ms. Leon would have come in contact with our guy.”</p><p>“Wait,” I said, quickly turning around and ripping the map off the wall. I set it down on the table and pointed at the space at the center of my markings, “Does that one fit within these margins?”</p><p>She leaned over the table and then compared the map to the notepad in her hand that she must have borrowed from the cop (she was never that prepared). </p><p>Her shirt was low cut and I only looked respectfully because I’m a gentleman.</p><p>“Yes,” She finally popped up, I reverted my eyes back to her proud ones and I couldn’t help but smile back.</p><p>Maybe things between us were looking brighter than I thought after all.</p><p>“Great. Text Hotch and we can go.”</p><p>-</p><p>After the connection that Y/n made, the case wrapped up easily with a neat bow on top. As it turns out, Ms. Leon’s store was even smaller than any of us could have expected, and she was able to give us a name as soon as we asked about any regulars. </p><p>Nicolas Daley was a forty-five year old man, he had social anxiety and a stutter, and he had his heartbroken during the time period of all of the clothes he had bought. All of which fit into the profile like the last pieces to an intricate puzzle.</p><p>We were all in the hotel lobby waiting for instructions from Hotch, who was on what sounded like an extremely frustrating phone call. The rain had built up to a storm, thunder and lightning and all. The rain was so heavy that on the drive back to the hotel, we could barely see through the windshield. </p><p>Since the call wasn’t over, we didn’t know exactly what they wanted us to do– but we were logical and we’ve been through this before. There was no way that we were leaving today, maybe not tomorrow either. Hotch was fighting, but the rest of us accepted it.</p><p>I was waiting at the edge of the room, having just changed out of my soaking wet clothes and into the pajamas that I had packed. I was sure that everyone would be making fun of me, which was why I stayed at the edge of the room, but as I scanned the room seeing that all the girls were wearing them too. So I moved further into the lobby and hesitated before taking a seat next to Y/n.</p><p>“I hate to say it… but… you did good.” I said. She looked up from her phone and she looked down at my pajamas.</p><p>“Hey there, dinosaur pants.” She laughed, ignoring my compliment (Or, implied compliment). I blushed.</p><p>“Well, you’re not even wearing pants!” I rebutted, gesturing towards the giant sweatshirt she was wearing as a dress. </p><p>“Hey, why are you looking at my no pants, pervert!”</p><p>“What? I’m not!” I said a little too loudly, everyone looked at me. I blushed even harder, losing control of my own nervous system. “I’m not,” I repeated, this time a whisper. The rest of the team seemingly lost interest and went back to whatever they were doing.</p><p>“It was a joke…” She furrowed her eyebrows, “You… do you have a sense of humor, don’t you?”</p><p>“Well excuse me if my sense of humor is a little more dignified than baseless accusations,” I rebutted, slowly but surely turning this into a whispered argument that everyone else was too tired to stop. “Though it wouldn’t surprise me if our senses of humor didn’t exactly overlap.”</p><p>“What does that mean?” She set her phone down and turned to face me more head-on, “You’re still pulling the genius card? Even after I solved the case in the same amount of time it took you to draw a circle on a map with your little stationery kit?”</p><p>“Okay, it’s a geographical profile that you were supposed to help me on-”</p><p>“Well, it’s good that I didn’t then, huh? Otherwise, we’d still be in that sweaty ass police station.” She tried to say nonchalantly, picking her phone back up, but I wasn’t done. I didn’t like arguments, I wasn’t a confrontational person. But whenever this happened, I always won. Today was no exception just because she layed off with the insults for an hour.</p><p>“I told you you did a good job!” I defended, no longer caring about the volume. I could feel the eyes of both annoyed and curious coworkers dig into me but I no longer cared about that either. “I told you! You’re the one making this a problem.”</p><p>“I was trying to be nice, you just got defensive and douchey for no reason.”</p><p>“You call that nice?” I laughed, she looked up at me from her phone. “Sweetheart, I don’t think that word is in your vocabulary.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ, this is what I get for thinking you had any other level,” she laughed to herself, which only made me more furious.</p><p>“Oh? What level is that?”</p><p>“Human!” </p><p>“Oddito, you two,” Rossi interrupted, throwing his book down on the cushion beside him to emphasize his annoyance. </p><p>“Please continue this in your rooms.” He smiled sarcastically and spoke with that scary calm voice that all parents seem to be programmed with. “The storm’s not stopping any time soon, and if I have to spend the entire night listening to you two assclowns arguing over stupid shit then we’re gonna have an issue.”</p><p>I blinked. “Did you just… send us to our rooms?”</p><p>“Yes, I did.” He grabbed his book and tucked it under his arm with his finger holding the page, before getting up heading to what looked like the sauna room. “Go before I make you.”</p><p>We complied immediately.</p><p>I didn’t realize I had followed Y/n into her room until I was already there.</p><p>“What’cha doin’ there, bud?” she asked condescendingly, though I guess she had a point this time. She looked at me with a confused and only slightly annoyed expression, and only then I realized that I didn’t have a plan. I wanted to continue this, but I realized that I didn’t have a plan beyond more yelling.</p><p>“I thought this wasn’t done yet,” I said, coming up with a reason that sounded fair on the spot.</p><p>She just laughed, seemingly not annoyed anymore.</p><p>“Give me a second.” Was all she said, before going into the bathroom. When she came out, she was wearing new pajamas. A matching set with shorts and a tank top, pink silk with little sheep on it. Her makeup was off and her hair was out of the tight ponytail she had it in all day. Sometimes I wondered if that ponytail was too tight and that was why she was always so short-tempered with me, but now she seemed like she couldn’t be bothered.</p><p>“Why’d you change?” I asked, thinking she was already in her pajamas.</p><p>“I thought I’d put on pants since that seemed to bother you so much before.” She laughed, throwing the sweatshirt she was wearing earlier on the desk chair.</p><p>“Now what?” She asked, calmer than I would have expected to be.</p><p>“I… I do have another level,” I said, an argument becoming the only words that made sense.</p><p>She just laughed and rubbed her face in her hands, “Did you really follow me to my room at midnight to argue with me?” </p><p>“We’re jet-lagged. I figured we have nothing better to do.” I said with a small shrug.</p><p>She sighs, “Want anything from the snack bar?”</p><p>“You shouldn’t be taking those,” I said, sitting at the foot of her bed. “They’re ridiculously overpriced.”</p><p>“They gave us a discount because of the ‘inconvenience’.” She air quoted the last word with a small snicker.</p><p> </p><p>“What? They never offered that to me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Then that says something about you, doesn’t it?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “Do you want trail mix, jelly beans, or kettle chips? I know you don’t drink, so.” </p><p>“I…” –didn’t expect you to be so hostly, is what I would have said. But I decided against it and settled with, “Trail mix, I guess.”</p><p>“How did I know you’d pick trail mix?” She laughed, throwing the trail mix at me and grabbing a mini tequila for herself.</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, opening the bag and picking an M&amp;M off the top.</p><p>“You dress like a grandpa already, I expected you to have the eating habits of one.”</p><p>“And you drink like a frat guy,” I said before shoveling more trail mix into my mouth.</p><p>“I do not. This is my first since we got here.” She defended herself. She pointed at me, “But then you opened your mouth and I just figured I was gonna need it. Now, why did you really follow me? Your room is just four down from mine.”</p><p>I blinked and hesitated, “I’m here… because…”</p><p>“If you don’t have a good reason then I’m gonna kick you out and make you pay for everything I took out of that minibar.”</p><p>“I’m here because…”</p><p>She groaned and ran her fingers through her hair, “I honestly thought you were gonna apologize. Give me the fucking trail mix back.”</p><p>“What do I have to apologize for?” I clung to the trail mix like she was trying to take my baby away. She didn’t bother trying to grab it, even though that would admittedly be an easy fight for her to win. She just stared blankly at me and I almost hated that more. “You’re acting like I’m the only one being an asshole here.”</p><p>She scoffed and sat down on the second bed that normally belonged to JJ, but I had a feeling that JJ wouldn’t be using it tonight. “At least you’re admitting you are in fact an asshole.”</p><p>“Jesus,” I groaned and sat up, “You know what your problem is?”</p><p>She sighed and leaned back onto her hands, “No, but I’m sure hoping you’ll tell me.”</p><p>“You’re entitled,” I said. Her face didn’t change at all, almost as if on some level she knew that I was right. “You think that you’re better than all of us when in reality, you’re just a spoiled little girl that’s used to getting everything she wants on a silver platter.”</p><p>She raised her eyebrows and bobbed her head, “You’re here to.. yell at me then, huh?” Her face wasn’t mad, something that on any normal occasion I would have noticed, but now I was too mad to pay attention to anything else.</p><p>“You started it! Oh my god, I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to-” </p><p>I stopped talking when something changed. She had moved to stand right in front of me, she was closer to me than we had ever been before, and I saw something in her eyes that I only recognized in myself when looking at her. Her eyes were dark and stagnant, only sparing a few shallow glances at my lips. Suddenly I forgot why I was here.</p><p>“Spencer, if you don’t shut up and kiss me then were going to have to finish this argument tomorrow.”</p><p>So I did.</p><p>I did like I had been sitting here waiting for that approval, and to be honest, I think that I kind of was. I grabbed her and pulled her onto my lap, kissing her like I had been wandering the desert and I finally found my oasis. The kiss was a direct reflection on what our entire dynamic was, it was heavy and angry, hot like the weather and passionate like it was a battle that I set all my intentions on winning. My hands were curious and wandered the shape of her body like I was creating her out of clay, not leaving an inch of her unexplored. </p><p>My lips wandered down to the flesh just below her jaw, mumbling in between sloppy kisses “You’re insufferable.” My words reverberated and tickled her sensitive skin.</p><p>“You love it.” She giggled, her breath hushed and her words more reserved than they’ve ever been before. I liked her better this way.</p><p>She exhaled a whimpered sigh when I started to nip and suck at her neck, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to hear just how good I could make her feel. She would hate to give me that satisfaction, but I knew that she wouldn’t have a choice. </p><p>My fingers dipped underneath her shirt, and once she nodded I pulled it up and over her head, leaving her bare chest exposed to the overly air-conditioned room. I groaned at the sight of her, the cold air making her nipples harden.</p><p>“Fuck,” I groaned, before adjusting us so she was laying on her back and I was hovering on top of her. “I’ve been wanting to rip you apart for so long,” I muttered, reattaching my lips to her neck and kissing a path down to her chest.</p><p>“God,” she swallowed, “I wish you would have done it sooner.”</p><p>I wrapped my lips around her hardened peak, she yelped at the sensation and immediately started to squirm underneath me. My hand traveled around the mound of her other breast and started to knead it like dough. My teeth lightly nipped at her peak and she immediately cried out like I had been waiting for.</p><p>“Spencer!” She whimpered, causing me to laugh against her, “Hurry up, you asshole!”</p><p>“By the sounds of it, it seems you like that,” I smirked, allowing my hands to release her breast and trail her body at a painfully slow pace.</p><p>“Spencer!” She whined impatiently, so I removed my mouth from her other breast entirely, only causing her to whine some more.</p><p>“What’s the magic word?” I asked, my fingers teasing the hem of her pajama shorts. I liked the way they felt between my fingers enough to stay here until she gave me what I needed from her, despite the bulge growing in my pants that was practically begging for attention– unfortunately, Y/n was the one I needed begging from.</p><p>“Please.” She started, but it still wasn’t good enough.</p><p>“Please, what?” I pressed, raising my eyebrows as my fingertips traced her skin.</p><p>“You’re so mean, I hate you.”</p><p>I removed my hands from her and started to climb off the bed, “Okay then, why don’t I just show myself out?”</p><p>“No, Spencer, please,” She grabbed my wrist urgently, making me stop and look at her expectantly. “Please, touch me. I need you to touch me or I will literally cry.”</p><p>“Much better,” I laughed before climbing back on top of her and pulling her pajama bottoms and underwear down her legs and discarding them to the side. She shyly closed her legs, but I counteracted by forcing them apart. I settled myself right in between her legs, moving her thighs to lay over my shoulders. I pressed a line of kisses from the inside of her knee down her thigh, right above the place where I knew she wanted me to be. Then I repeated on the other side. She exhaled a frustrated sigh, but she seemed to be holding back other, stronger opinions in fear that I might actually leave. But in all honesty, I’ve been thinking about this for so long that I would never leave.</p><p>I licked a single stripe up her slit, forcing a moan out from her lips as her thighs squeezed my head. Such a big reaction from such a small maneuver, I could tell she had been waiting for this longer than she’d ever care to admit. I looked up at her, and once she granted me eye contact I went back in. My tongue ran between her folds quickly, eating her out like I was starving. I teased her hole with my tongue and that made her go wild. She bucked her hips into my mouth, grinding on my tongue as shattered moans filled the air. Her body was squirming so much at my touch that I had to use one hand to grab her hips and hold her down against the mattress to restrict her. She tasted vaguely of honey and cumin, and my thoughts could confirm that I was definitely not going to stop.</p><p>I moved my lips up to her clit and circled around it, sucking on it and forcing a scream out from her throat. Her head was thrown so far back that her neck was exposed, mentally I noted that she needed to be marked there. The fingers on my free hand dragged up the inside of her thigh, traveling along the path I had created with my lips just moments ago.</p><p>Her moans were noncoherent word fragments, and although the sound was beautiful, I wanted to hear something else. So without warning, I plunged two of my fingers into her.</p><p>“Spencer!” She cried out the word I had been waiting for, as my mouth and my fingers worked together to bring tears of pleasure to her eyes. “F-Fuck, Spence, I- shit!”</p><p>My fingers curled in her, stroking the sensitive patch inside her while my tongue worked in circles around her clit. Her walls started pulsing around my fingers and it was a satisfying confirmation that she didn’t hate me nearly as much as she claimed she did. She was whining and crying, and I knew that if I didn’t stop now then she was going to cum onto my tongue. I could imagine it now, her thigh squeezing tightly around my head, her hands in my hair as I finished her off with my tongue alone — But as nice as that sounded, I had another idea.</p><p>I slipped my fingers out of her and unattached my mouth from her clit. My hands stayed firm on her knees that planted her feet on either side of my body, and allowed me to see every part of her there was to see. She was dripping fluid of arousal down onto the duvet below us. The tent in my pants was growing ever more painful at the sight of her.</p><p>“Ugh, fuck you,” She laughed, covering her face with her hands. </p><p>“Trust me, sweetheart, that’s next on the list.” I chuckled before crawling up her body and letting my lips connect with her’s in a kiss that was tender, and almost sweet. We created a cocktail of tequila and her juices as we kissed, and I hoped that she could taste herself as well as I could. With my hands propping me up, her hands were the ones to travel down my body and pull my hard cock out from my clothes.</p><p>I hissed at the feeling of her warm hand around me, shocking in contrast to the cool air that was cascading down on us. I moaned into her mouth as her hand stroke me in a far too light touch, and I realized now why she was complaining so much when the situation was reversed. </p><p>“Do we need a..?” I broke apart from her lips, but only barely.</p><p>She shook her head and looked at me with smiling eyes, “Pill.” She confirmed.</p><p>Immediately, I lined myself up with her entrance and slowly pushed myself all the way in. Our breaths both hitched at the intrusion, taking a minute to adjust. Then she nodded with her eyes still fluttered shut. She was wrapped so tightly around me, it felt like I was in heaven. Her walls thrummed a heartbeat around my cock, and despite all my desires, I stayed stagnant. She wiggled frustratedly underneath me.</p><p>“You’re so fucking wet, baby, is this all for me?” I asked, my voice strained and gravely.</p><p>“Yes,” She exhaled, finally locking eye contact with me, and not once letting it waver.</p><p>I slowly pulled out of her, before sinking back in, forcing a moan out from the back of my throat. Her hands snaked up my chest and around to the back of my neck, tugging softly at my curls with her eyes squeezed shut. I picked up the pace, fitting inside her so perfectly that I couldn’t help but wonder if this was supposed to happen. I thrusted into her forcefully and rhythmically, going along to the beat of the headboard hitting the wall as I fucked her into the mattress–probably alerting the whole floor (and our team) of our antics, but at that moment I honestly couldn’t care less.</p><p>With all my weight on one arm, I dragged my hand up her body and landed around her throat to match the necklace that hung there every day. </p><p>“You like that?” I asked before applying any pressure, immediately she nodded with so much enthusiasm that I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, I bet you do, dirty girl,” I spoke, squeezing my hand on the sides of her throat and watching arrogantly as she reacted. Her eyes fluttered shut as she lost herself in the feeling, so I did too. I felt her tight pussy fluttered around me and listened to my name escape her lips in soft, strained whimpers. All of it was too much. </p><p>With my hand still around her throat, I kissed her in a connection that was far too soft for the moment. We ‘hated’ each other only twenty minutes ago, I should have told her all the things that I wanted to tell her whenever we fought. I wanted to tell her what a filthy whore she must be to like the way I choked her, I felt like I needed to bruise her and I felt like I needed to degrade her… but none of that felt right. Any feelings of resentment I had for her washed away as the ecstasy washed over me, and all I felt was what was left.</p><p>“You’re so beautiful.” Were the soft words I whispered against her lips, and I bit her lower one before she could respond as I realized my mistake.</p><p>“Spencer,” She started through a moan, but I interrupted her thought, releasing my hand from around her throat and thrusting harder into her. “Fuck! Spence, I’m gonna–ah!” She moaned as she found her release. Watching her face as she lost herself in pleasure and feeling the way she clenched around me both urged me to finish too. My eyes squeezed shut and our moans melded together like the chorus of a song. Ecstasy washed over us, and filled me with the feeling of complete and utter relief of the pressure that must have been building up for as long as I’ve known her. My eyes were screwed so tightly shut, it seemed far too difficult to open them again. They were heavy, but when they opened, she was already looking into them. Her own were warm and gentle, so much more so than I remembered. </p><p>We stayed there for a few long moments, looking at each other while our breathing evened. I made a realization tonight, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think that she felt the same thing.</p><p>I slipped out of her and with a certain begrudgingness I never expected to feel, I got up from the bed and I started to dress back up. I felt her eyes watching me as I did, and a blush came into my cheeks at the intrusion– despite the fact that she had already seen everything there was to see.</p><p>“I…um, we gotta clean you up. I’ll grab a towel.”</p><p>“Why don’t we just take a shower together?” She asked as if it was a normal thing for us. She always seemed to be a few steps ahead of me, and this time I was making myself catch up. I shook my head no, but not because I didn’t want to.</p><p>“No, it’s storming.”</p><p>She shrugged, “…So?”</p><p>“Lightning can travel through plumbing.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughed, “What’s the probability of that actually happening?”</p><p>I knew that that was probably a rhetorical question, but I had the information already stored in my brain so I just answered her anyway. “Meteorologist Ron Holle estimated that ten to twenty people in the united states are shocked annually while bathing, using faucets or handling appliances during storms,” I explained as I walked to the bathroom to get a towel, returning only for her to be staring blankly back at me.</p><p>“I don’t want you to die, is all.” I finished my point, wiping away all evidence of myself off of her.</p><p>“That’s sweet of you,” She laughed, “I’m surprised.”</p><p>I finished wiping her down, and all the words that I had been dying to say all dissipated there from the pressure. So I didn’t say anything.</p><p>I awkwardly started looking for my shoes, but I realized only then that I came here without shoes, which was even more awkward. I breathed in shakily and shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my pajama pants. I turned over my shoulder to look at her. She looked… sad.</p><p>“I… I’ll see you tomorrow.” I forced out. She opened her mouth to say the words that I could almost physically see her thinking of, but she hesitated before closing it again.</p><p>Then the loud sound of thunder crashing in the sky echoed in through the room like the booming sound of a gun, and Y/n flinched. I furrowed my eyebrows and she managed to force the thought out.</p><p>“What if you… stayed?” She finally asked. All the saliva in my mouth seemed to evaporate, leaving me dry and speechless.</p><p>“Y-You want me to… to stay?” I managed, questioning her as if she wasn’t abundantly clear.</p><p>“I’m… I’m scared of… thunder.” Her hands gripped the sheets like she was hammering for anchored security. </p><p>“You are?” I asked, suddenly the riddler, apparently. She just shrugged. </p><p>“Oh…um, okay.” I stuttered, hesitating before approaching her again. Avoiding eye contact like the plague as I awkwardly collected myself on the bed, still staying on top of the sheets. All of this was going really fast and I felt like it would be better if that was a line I didn’t cross yet. </p><p>I felt her eyes on me, I turned to look at her and her eyes were confused but also amused.</p><p>“What, are you still scared of cooties?” she teased.</p><p>I furrowed my eyebrows, “No, cooties are a fictitious disease. I don’t believe in them.”</p><p>“Then get under the covers…” She said, her face slowly melting back into that smile that on most occasions I’d find detestable. But I didn’t mind it anymore… it was a rather pretty smile. “I don’t bite.” She added, as if she could tell that I was already thinking about her mouth. </p><p>“Is it bad if I kind of wish you did?” I asked shyly, adjusting myself to be underneath the covers like she had invited.</p><p> </p><p>“No, but now you have something to look forward to.” I widened my eyes at the implication that this would happen again, but it excited me far more than I could have imagined. She smiled wrapping her arm around me and cuddling into me. I tensed up at the touch at first. She looked up at me, “Is this okay?” She asked.</p><p>I swallowed and nodded, almost frantically, “Yes! Yes, it’s definitely okay.”</p><p>“O-kay.” She laughed, returning to her spot on my chest. </p><p>I hesitated at first, not immediately sure where I was supposed to put my hands. But eventually the problem resolved, and I was the big spoon. I’ve never been any type of utensil before, so this was new, but certainly not all that bad. </p><p>She quickly fell asleep, with soft snores escaping her lips. I knew she never got much sleep, though neither did I, so I was glad to see her drift off so quickly. She smelled good. I noticed that before, but now it was apparent and it wasn’t weird for me to think about. She smelled like vanilla and autumn, which just so happened to be my favorite season.</p><p>The thunder stopped before I fell asleep, but I didn’t stop. The rain persisted and grew louder, I could hear the drumming on the roof and the streets outside, and the noise managed to lull me to sleep while holding the snoring girl that I thought I hated in my arms.</p><p>But she was only scared of thunder. Tomorrow there would be no more storms, and she wouldn’t have any use for me anymore. We would go our separate ways and pretend that none of this happened. Right?</p><p>-</p><p>When I woke up, I thought that the succession of the last fifteen hours was a dream. Y/n was nowhere to be found, and the hotel room was identical to my own. Plus, the whole thing just felt … irrational considering our dynamic.</p><p>I sat up and yawned, my eyes looking around the room.</p><p>That was a very intricate dream then, I thought, I probably won’t be able to look Y/n in the eyes for a while.</p><p>I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up too quickly, consequently getting a head rush and having to sit back down. But then I saw a familiar fabric crumpled on the floor. It was Y/n’s sweatshirt. I honestly never expected myself to be so excited to see dirty laundry. </p><p>Thank god it wasn’t a dream. But where was she?</p><p>I got out of bed again (slowly this time) and I checked the bathroom. She wasn’t there. The clock on my phone showed it was already two PM, so the breakfast place was closed. I could check with the team, but I had one last guess after that.</p><p>I stepped out in the hallway, the feeling of strangely moist carpet against my feet an uncomfortable reminder that I wasn’t wearing shoes… I had time for a detour. A couple doors down was the room I was supposed to share with Derek, something that obviously never ended up happening. I reached for my key but the door was unlocked, the doorstop keeping it from shutting. I narrowed my eyes and slowly pressed my palm against the wood. It opened. Derek was sitting on my bed, waiting for me like a parent who had caught me sneaking out.</p><p>“Hey… Derek.” I greeted slowly, kicking away the doorstop and shutting the door with my back.</p><p>“Where were you last night? Busy?” He pressed like we were in the interrogation room rather than a musty hotel. I couldn’t bring myself to be annoyed, however. I just had to bite back the smirk that fought to grow on my face. </p><p>I nodded, “I guess you could say that.”</p><p>He smiled but quickly hid it again under his cover of a profiler in the same way I did. He leaned forward onto his elbows and waved me over to him. Hesitantly, I did.</p><p>“You knoooow…“ He dragged out, pointing his finger at me. I looked down at it and then back up at his face with a confused expression that begged him to get on with it. “I saw you go into Y/n’s room last night…but I didn’t see you come out.”</p><p>“That’s odd,” I lied, looking around the room like I was searching for her, “What happened to JJ?”</p><p>“She took your bed.” He gestured to my bed that was unmade despite the fact that I didn’t sleep there. I pouted my lips in thought. “What were you doing in there, pretty boy?” He said, no longer trying to hide the smirk on his face.</p><p>I blushed, but I could no longer help the way my pout formed into a smile.</p><p>“I, uh, I guess we were… reconciling.” Was the phrasing decided on, pulling my lower lip in between my teeth. It was… the least innocuous excuse I could think of that was still true.</p><p>“Oh I bet you were.” Derek laughed, getting up and patting me on the shoulder. “I bet you were.”</p><p>Derek headed towards the door, but one last thought popped into my head.</p><p>“Did you know she’s afraid of thunder?” I asked him through a small laugh. She had such a strong personality, but she was scared of updrafts in the atmosphere. It was cute. Derek turned around, looking confused. </p><p>“No, she’s not.” He squinted, looking me up and down as if he was looking for the physical cues of a lie… though I couldn’t understand why someone would lie about that. ”She was talking my ear off the other day about missing the storms from her hometown… Why? Did she tell you different?”</p><p>“Um…” I furrowed my eyebrows and looked down at the floor as I thought, “Yeah.” </p><p>It was a cover… she wanted me to stay, not because of the thunder, but because she wanted me to stay. I blinked and looked down at my hands, contemplating to myself what this could mean for the both of us.</p><p>“Huh.” Derek popped his eyebrows and started back towards the door. “Women are strange.”</p><p>Derek left the room and I got back on track. I got dressed and put real shoes on so I didn’t have to wander the hallways like a ghost that died in his socks. Navigating through the hotel, I found the 24-hour bar that I noticed while we were in the lobby last night. I walked in and I saw her there, the only one in the place besides the tired looking bartender. She was still in the sheep pajamas from last night, drinking a vodka martini with an olive impaled on a sword cocktail pick.</p><p>“How did I know I’d find you here?” I amusedly asked, taking a seat in the uncomfortable barstool next to her. She laughed and stirred the olive around her drink before finally looking up at me.</p><p>“How did I know you’d find me?” She rebutted, I just shrugged. She smiled and went back to her drink, it was nearing on empty and I wondered how many she’s had.</p><p>I gestured to the glass in her hand, “It seems a little early to be drinking, don’t you think?”</p><p>“It’s open 24 hours. They don’t mind that I’m here, do ya, Ted?” She said, talking to the bartender, Ted I guess his name was, who was cleaning a glass that was probably hers.</p><p>“Not as long as you tip.” He said plainly. She smiled and looked at me, before raising both her eyebrows and her glass, bringing the latter to her lips.</p><p>“How many drinks have you had?” I questioned. She smiled into her drink and shook her head.</p><p>“This is my first! I swear I’m not the drunk you think I am.” She put the glass back down. The sound of the crystal against the granite countertop filled the otherwise empty bar, which helped substantiate my next point.</p><p>“Yes, but it’s two pm.” </p><p>She laughed breathily and finished off the drink, setting it back down without touching the olive like she normally would have.</p><p>“It’s 5 pm in Quantico.”</p><p>That wasn’t true, Huston and Quantico were only an hour apart timezone-wise, but I decided that argument was a useless cause.</p><p>“Are we…” I cleared my throat, glancing at Ted quickly before deciding that he didn’t care enough to eavesdrop, so I continued with a lower voice. “-gonna talk about what happened last night?”</p><p>She sighed and looked around the room with unfixed eyes, she seemed to be nervous. “I assumed that’s why we’re talking right now, isn’t it?” She asked. I shrugged. “You want to… forget about it… and go back to hating me, right?”</p><p>I shook my head urgently, “I don’t hate you,” It was the first time I admitted it out loud but seemed to be just as valuable for me as I meant it for her. “I never have.”</p><p>She narrowed her eyes and searched my face like she didn’t believe me, “…Really?”</p><p>“Welllll,” I bobbed my head, “You’re annoying as shit sometimes, but no. I don’t hate you.” </p><p>She raised her eyebrows, “You’re a fantastic actor then.”</p><p>She seemed to want to end the conversation there, still twisting the olive in her empty glass like she was trying to fill the space before it got awkward, but we were already a bit past that point. I looked around one more time. Ted was cleaning tables that already looked clean, he was probably feeling just as awkward as us. I blinked and looked back at her.</p><p>“You’re just…” I shifted on the stool as I tried to form my thoughts in a verbal way that made any sense, “A little hard for me to wrap my head around.”</p><p>“Why, because I’m so incredible?” She smiled, I just laughed. But then she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t hate you either, Reid,” she said instead of asking me to elaborate. Maybe she knew she was confusing sometimes, or maybe she felt the same way about me.</p><p>“I’m… glad.” I blinked. She laughed humorlessly, and almost… sadly. She tapped her fingers against the cold granite, her fingernails making a tapping noise that normally would have grossed me out, but I figured that now wasn’t the time to mention it. </p><p>“All I ever wanted… was your approval.” I squinted my eyes at her, searching her face for bluff like we were in an interrogation room. She fidgeted with her hands underneath the bar and her eyes looked everywhere but mine… but she didn’t seem to be lying. She cleared her throat and continued, “Before me, you were the youngest and you were more accomplished at fourteen than I am now.” She finally looked up at me, but I didn’t say anything. I just listened. “I’ve seen your articles…an-and I’ve read your dissertations.” </p><p>She swallowed and shook her head, “Coming in, I guess I expected you to be an asshole because… well, you’ve accomplished enough to be. But when I met you and you weren’t… it made me feel worse because of course you’re humble too, above everything else.”  She laughed and looked up at the ceiling, seemingly trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. I didn’t know what to say. “I treated you like an asshole for no reason… and for that, I’m really sorry.” </p><p>She seemed to feel better now, like a weight had been lifted off of her. She ran her fingers below her eyes to pick up stray tears, like windshield wipers on the windows of the cars that were no doubt driving through the rain of the storm that had yet to settle.</p><p>“I’m sorry too,” I swallowed the lump that was growing in my throat from nerves, “I mean, I‘m a genius and stuff… but pretty girls make me do stupid, stupid shit.”</p><p>I saw a light flicker in her eyes as she picked out the part of that sentence that I managed to blow past entirely.</p><p>“You think I’m pretty?”</p><p>I laughed nervously, thinking that it was a given based on what we did last night. She is pretty. She’s absolutely gorgeous. But it made me nervous knowing that I had to admit that out loud.</p><p>“I… uh, yeah…” I rubbed the back of my neck, “Isn’t that obvious?”</p><p>She was smiling, but she held her lower lip in between her teeth to try and hold it back. But I saw, and I couldn’t help but smile back.</p><p>“I think you’re pretty too.” She finally said. I blushed</p><p>We went silent again, but this time it was comfortable. But then she looked down at the olive, and she grabbed it by the handle of the plastic sword that was plunged into it. She held it out to me expectantly. I squinted my eyes and looked up at her with an amused half-smile.</p><p>“Olive branch.” She offered.</p><p>“This is a martini olive infused with alcohol,” I observed. </p><p>“It’s an olive branch.” She insisted with a small giggle,  “Are you gonna take it or not?” She raised her eyebrows and moved the toothpick closer to me.</p><p>I sighed and accepted, opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue. She put the olive on my tongue and I wrapped my lips around it. Slowly, she pulled the sword out from my mouth, watching me curiously as I ate it. I didn’t like the taste that much, I didn’t drink alcohol and I didn’t even like olives that much, but I couldn’t help but appreciate the slight twitch in her face as she watched. She swore under her breath.</p><p>“That was…” She cleared her throat as heat came into her face, “Fuck…That was really hot.”</p><p>My eyes and smile widened, equal with both surprise and enthusiasm.</p><p>“Oh, yeah?” I asked.</p><p>She looked around one last time as if anyone else would be in the bar at two in the afternoon. She looked back to me and spoke quietly so the dust bunnies in the corner couldn’t hear. </p><p>“I’ll meet you in your room in five minutes?”</p><p>“Oh yeah.”</p>
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